In Greenwood long ago,
Amid the elvish court,
A warriors' band did grow
Of courteous, noble sort;
And from this company
Of comrades brave and true
Against an enemy
For help could any sue.
There came an elven-maid
With plea about her woes:
To render to her glade
Their help against her foes,
The spiders who so sought
To slaughter and destroy,
That helpless she could not
Restore her forest's joy.
From ranks of noble band
Sprang Thoron young and true,
Who sought with clasping hand
The quest he might pursue.
Thranduil granted this—
Alone he should proceed,
To serve with humbleness
All that the maid should need.
But Mithriel, at his youth
And rashness, as she thought,
Rejected him, aloof,
And scorned the help she'd sought;
But Thoron kept his word
And followed after her,
Though she his courage slurred
And anger sought to stir.
"A knight you call yourself?
You're but a kitchen-lad!
I sought a warrior-elf,
But you they sent instead!"
Yet still he would reply,
"My pledge to help you heard.
I at this quest will ply
My strength despite your word."
Though she in slander railed
Remained he by her side;
Thus when they were assailed
His sword at once he plied:
The spider, seething, fell
In death to forest floor,
And Thoron in the dell
Full calmly cleaned his sword.
Said Mithriel with disdain,
"See, Fortune's favored son!
But will your luck remain
When facing more than one?"
"My lady," he returned,
"I took this victory
By skills that I have learned
From Greenwood's mastery."
Again more spiders dropped
With hissing to the ground;
Again their plans were stopped
By Thoron's sword-play sound.
And Mithriel showed the same,
But started she to doubt
The justice of her claim
'Mid angry spiders' rout.
And when right narrowly
He saved her from a sting
And slew the enemy
His promise honoring,
Then she with tears did turn
And humbly begged that he
Forgive her maiden scorn
As youthful foolery.
And Thoron smiled and said,
"If I did stay with you
Through insults to my head
And slandering anew,
Of course I now with joy
Will help you on your quest
And any other ploy
You seek among the rest."
So Mithriel spoke and sung
With Thoron as they rode,
Till came they where there hung
Their enemies' abode;
There Thoron lustily
His lady's foes he slew,
And fighting mightily
He cleansed the glade anew.
They rode back to the court
In amity and peace,
And told the King their sort
Of courage and caprice;
And in due time they wed
At Thranduil's full consent;
With joy they ever sped
On quests that they'd been sent.
A/N: I killed two plans with one poem! Yay! First: I wrote something light-hearted where no one dies! And second: I used LadyOfAnfalas' recommendation of something from King Arthur and company (it's the story of Lynette and Gareth, if you didn't know). Thanks for the idea, Lady A!
By the way, I do have a plan for the Goose Girl set in Valinor, but it's...not...working...argh! So you get this instead. I hope you liked it (and please review to tell me so, or not, or whatever you think...). Blessings!
And you also may wish to know I added another stanza to Lestilwen of the Faithful (Ch2) with more details about the escape (incidentally, Lady A suggested this as well. Thanks, my friend :D).